


Tear-Stained

by Crownonymous



Series: Whumptober 2019 [14]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Crying, M/M, Suicide, Tears, Whump, Whumptober 2019, its that one scene after akira gets captured
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21586774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crownonymous/pseuds/Crownonymous
Summary: Why him?
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, implied but still - Relationship
Series: Whumptober 2019 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1522484
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	Tear-Stained

**Author's Note:**

> Day 14 of Whumptober 2019. First posted on my tumblr, crossposting on AO3.
> 
> AU where Akira’s an idiot and only told Futaba, Morgana, and Makoto of his plan and told them NOT to tell anyone else.  
or. you could interpret this as an AU where they don’t realise that they were betrayed

Everything happened too fast.

The enemy readings from Futaba. Being forced to separate. Watching Akira get swarmed. Watching Akira get arrested. Having to be dragged away by Ryuji to keep himself from leaping down and trying to do... something. They were still in the Metaverse, Yusuke could have summoned Kamu Susano-o, cut through the police, freeze them. Something.

Yusuke could have done something.

Their return to the real world wasn’t as triumphant as they expected.

Makoto desperately tried to keep order. “Act normal. We’re going to figure things out but in the meantime, we have to act like everything’s okay. Like nothing is wrong. It’s going to throw suspicion off of us and give us a better chance at rescuing Akira. Okay?”

Everyone had agreed.

Yusuke had agreed.

Everything was going to be fine.

Yusuke was going to head straight to the hideout as soon as school finished. He would help plan with Makoto. He would storm in there if he had to and drag Akira out.

The day passed by in a blur.

Yusuke was out of it.

Numerous teachers expressed concern over the blank, glassy look in his eyes. Several of his classmates took it as the perfect opportunity to approach him. Yusuke lost track of girls from his year trying to talk to him about the “haunted” look in his eyes.

What a ridiculous notion.

Yusuke was not “haunted” by anything. It’s not as if Akira was in jail, alone, without anyone to help him. It’s not as if Yusuke had to watch the most important person in his life get dragged away while he was powerless to stop it. It’s not as if Yusuke felt as though someone tore through his fucking chest and left him hollow inside.

It’s fine.

Akira will be fine.

He has to be.

Kosei’s art room would have been the perfect place to distract him until school ends. Yusuke had good fluorescent lights hanging over him, and good natural light from the windows letting sunlight stream through. The scent of paint, of ink, of oil permeated the air and Yusuke should have felt right at home.

But his canvas was empty.

There was a bird, near the edge of the canvas, a simple black shape on a horizon of nothingness. Yusuke had an idea somewhere in the back of his mind but…

After everything, after the Casino, he just...couldn’t bring himself to paint anything.

Every time he tried to think of something, every time he tried to pick up his brush, every time he hovered colour over his canvas, he thought of Akira. He thought of Akira patiently, summoning persona after persona in Mementos just so Yusuke could sketch them out. He thought of Akira who packed Yusuke homemade curry so Yusuke didn’t have to go without dinner. He thought of Akira smiling at him in the Ueno Museum, full of pride and joy when Yusuke won Kawanabe’s art competition.

Painting, Yusuke realised, had now become intrinsically linked to Akira. When Yusuke wanted to paint a landscape, he thought of Akira rowing them across the lake in Inokashira Park. When Yusuke wanted to paint something traditional, he remembered Akira showing bringing him to Book Town and pointing out interesting tomes with old Japanese art. When he wanted to paint entire galaxies, he thought of the Planetarium in Ikebukuro and how Yusuke ended up not paying attention to the stars at all.

_ Also the young man continues to remain silent, refusing to implicate any potential accomplices, however, considering the number of charges brought against him… _

Yusuke listened attentively, brush held loosely in one hand, arms resting on his thighs and his entire being focused on the words coming from the newscaster. About Akira. About how he continued to protect them despite being under interrogation and threat of heavy punishment.

Yusuke felt numb. He felt like laughing, if only to take away the heavy tar-like feeling holding him down.

“You seem stumped for once…” His teacher approached, peering at his empty canvas, at his unmoving hand. Before, before Akira was taken, Yusuke’s hands moved like starlight twinkling in the sky, like a leaf bobbing on a lake, like the beat of Arsene’s wings. Yusuke painted hearts and worlds and raw emotion.

And he can’t even do so much as lift his brush.

He couldn’t even listen to his teacher. Yusuke registered the noise. Yusuke registered his teacher’s mouth moving. Yusuke registered the words but he heard nothing. He can’t remember his teacher’s name. He can’t remember any of his classmate’s names. He can’t remember anything except the way Akira was knocked off that ladder and swarmed by police as though they were rabid sharks.

Normal. Right.

As if Yusuke could proceed as normal.

Still. He had to try. Akira would have wanted him to try. Yusuke picked up his palette and brush and stared once more at his sheet-white canvas.

Yusuke didn’t want to paint anything. But Akira always did love his paintings. Always took the time to tell Yusuke what he loved about each piece. Offered ideas and criticisms with a smile and the promise of food once Yusuke was done painting. Yusuke should finish this piece just so Akira could look at it if he gets out. When. When he gets out.

He  _ will _ make it out.

A deep breath. Yusuke was shaking. The urge to laugh was there, bubbling in the back of his throat. Yusuke laughed when Madarame was accused of plagiarism. Yusuke laughed when he learned of his mother’s tragic fate. Yusuke laughed because he didn’t want to cry.

And he refused to cry.

Because Akira will make it out.

Surely.

Yusuke wanted to laugh.

Instead, he dabbed the tip of his brush until it turned a navy blue. Like the night sky. Akira once told him that he missed the country if only for the stars, for the darkness of the heavens that allowed twinkling diamonds to shine. Yusuke would try to emulate that. He’d never been to the country, never been to a place where the sky wasn’t blotted out by the lights of a thousand different establishments fighting for control or the honking of speeding cars or glimmer of streetlights.

Yusuke painted over the bird, painted the top half of his canvas with that dark night sky blue. Then he added black around the edges, smudged in faint clouds, added glittering stars that couldn’t be found in Tokyo. The way Akira described them. Brilliant, blinding jewels that hung in the sky, that shone bright enough that he could navigate the streets without light.

Akira described a floodplain in his hometown, with a river where people often fished. Akira described rice fields that stretched past the horizon. Akira described cats lingering the streets with glowing eyes that he always ended up feeding.

Yusuke found himself smiling.

Miles away, locked in an isolated cell, and somehow, someway, Akira still managed to make him smile.

_ We have breaking news. _

The other students were at it again, clustered on their phones. Well, Yusuke didn’t expect anything less. Their teacher went to the bathroom so it was obvious that they were

_ The young man being held in custody has committed suicide. _

Yusuke stopped breathing.

He shot up from his seat, his palette and brush dropping to the ground. His vision swam, the entire room tilted, Yusuke’s entire world shattered. Distantly, he heard his chair fall to the ground, his canvas knocked down, falling paint-first onto the floor. Yusuke didn’t care. Yusuke couldn’t hear anything. The only thing that felt real in the world was the news reporter, slowly killing Yusuke’s soul bit by bit with every word.

_ The police have confirmed his death. _

Yusuke refused to believe it. Not Akira. Not him. Why him.

_ To repeat, the suspect has committed suicide while in custody. _

“Kitagawa-kun?” One of the girls asked. She wore glasses (not round like his) had black hair (not as black as his) and kind eyes (not as kind as his) and Yusuke broke.

Before she could even take a step towards him, Kitagawa sped out of the room.

He threw open the door just as his teacher was coming in, nearly shoved him out of the way, shoved everyone out of his way as he sprinted down the hallway to the nearest bathroom.

The dazzling orange sunset lost its luster. The verdant leaves on every tree withered. The flowers in the courtyard all wilted.

The stars, Yusuke was sure, the stars that he would have liked to see, the stars he was sure would have shone brightly, died.

One by one.

One for every tear that ran down Yusuke’s face.

One for every broken sob that tore out of his throat.

One for every smile he would never see again.

The bathroom was empty when Yusuke got in. He picked a stall, slammed it shut, locked the door, and wept.

Yusuke wanted to give him Desire and Hope. Wanted to make his life brighter in some way, any way that he can. Yusuke swore that he would be there should Akira stumble, should Akira ever need his help.

Yusuke wanted to show Akira the Meguro River so Akira could have a little taste of home. Yusuke wanted to take Akira to Yanesen, so he could interact with all the stray cats wandering there. Yusuke wanted to see the stars with him.

Yusuke wanted more time.

Yusuke wanted.

Yusuke wanted more than he’s ever wanted in his life. He finally had a chance to be happy. After everything. After Madarame. After being lost, adrift, a sheep with no pasture to come back to. A man wandering in the dark. Akira gave him light. Akira gave him hope. Akira gave him a place to belong.

It was only now that Yusuke was finally willing to accept the fact that he deserves to be happy. He didn’t need to suffer for his art. He didn’t need to bury himself in doubt and pain and starve himself like he was taught to do.

Akira taught him that Yusuke deserved to be happy.

Yusuke deserved to be fucking happy.

So why.

After everything he’s been through, after everything that he’s lost.

Why Akira?

Why take away the only FUCKING thing Yusuke cared about more than art?

Why.

Fucking WHY!?

Yusuke cried, curling himself into a tight ball, desperately wishing for things to change. For Akira to never have been caught. For Yusuke to never have gotten so close. For them to have never met at all.

Yusuke’s uniform was wet with tears. No matter how many times he tried to wipe them away, he can’t stop crying.

If Yusuke never met him. If Yusuke never met the one person he wanted to smile more than anything, the one person who taught him that it was alright for him to live, to love, to try and be happy, if Yusuke never fucking met the single most astonishing, compassionate, understanding human being then

Then he wouldn’t have a hole where his heart should be. He wouldn’t be howling in pain in a school bathroom, crying his eyes out, digging his nails into his arms hard enough to draw blood. The pain was nothing compared to the burning, hollow feeling inside of him; like Yusuke was set alight, like coals were stitched under his flesh, like the devastating echo of loss didn’t ring in his ears.

Yusuke should never have met him. Yusuke should have stayed with Madarame and languished forever. He should have worked himself to death instead. If the Phantom Thieves never targeted Madarame, if they never saved him, they would never have gained fame. They would never have gotten the attention of such dangerous people. Akira would never have been put into such a precarious situation.

He would have lived.

Yusuke would give a thousand lives so Akira could live. Yusuke would die over and over again. Yusuke would choose to rot in hell for all eternity. Yusuke would choose to stay by Madarame’s side, shackled, forced to paint and paint until his body gave out, if Akira could only live.

Yusuke would switch places with Akira in a heartbeat.

Akira should have lived.

Akira should have spent his days getting homeruns in the batting cages of Leblanc. He should have gone to the movies with a wide-eyed look on his face every time he saw explosions on screen. He should have lived to see the stars again.

Why him.

Why?

It isn’t fair.

Why wasn’t it me? It should have been me.

In every lifetime, Yusuke would always choose Akira’s life over his own.

He should have done something.

_ The young man being held in custody has committed suicide. _

It should have been me.

Yusuke can’t stop crying.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to know what I'm writing next click over [HERE](https://crownonymous.tumblr.com/sched)  
If you want to stay updated on the progress I've made on my fics click [HERE](https://crownonymous.tumblr.com/tagged/crownonynews)  
And if you want to come say hi or just get bombarded with random posts, you can find me over [HERE](https://landofsaltandshade.tumblr.com/)


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